She tilts her head just slightly, dark eyes holding yours with a question that doesn't need words. Close enough that you catch the warmth radiating off her skin, the faint scent of something floral.

Your breath slows. Her lips part — not quite a smile, not quite an invitation, but something suspended perfectly between the two. A deliberate tease wrapped in patience.

You feel the pull before you make any decision. Her gaze drops to your mouth for exactly one second, then returns to your eyes. The answer was always yes. It was always going to be yes.